


you know you're a terrible sight but you'll be just fine

by heartequals (savvygambols)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2018-2019 NHL Season, Coming Out, Family, First Kisses, Implied Homophobia (Past), Implied Internalized Homphobia, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, first crushes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 21:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20841926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvygambols/pseuds/heartequals
Summary: Jake was trying to be an adult these days. He really sucked at it.(In which Jake Guentzel signs a big contract, has a meltdown, and eventually pulls himself together with the help of his brothers, Jared McCann, dessert wine, and several sausage McMuffins.)





	you know you're a terrible sight but you'll be just fine

**Author's Note:**

> Fictionalized versions the Guentzel brothers feature pretty prominently in this fic. If that’s not your jam, I’d advise you find another fic to read.
> 
> ayyyy it’s rarepair powerhour with AO3 user heartequals (savvygambols)!! Thank you to hatoyona for cheering me on while writing this and sending me photos of and articles about Jared McCann and Jake Guentzel for inspiration. Also for not minding too much that I have never once in my life referred to Teddy Blueger by his full name, preferring instead to call him Little Lupin. She’s the best. Sorry about who I am!!
> 
> The working title of this fic was just “Jake’s Journey of Self-Discovery” which I did not end up using, but may give you some clue as to how this fic goes. This fic is extremely more soft than its tags suggest. I have attempted to keep this fic as accurate to the 2018/2019 season as possible, however I did not watch most of the games the Pens played that season so if I call a game a shitshow and it was actually pretty good........please forgive me, I did it for the feelings.
> 
> Title from “The Hype” by twenty one pilots: “nice to know my kind will be on my side / I don’t believe the hype / and you know you’re a terrible sight / but you’ll be just fine / just don’t believe the hype.”

Jake was trying to do this thing where he didn’t call his older brothers every time he had a problem, partly because they usually made fun of him when it was about stuff like haircuts but mostly because he was 24 and trying to act like an adult these days. He didn’t really have a lot of people in his life right now that he could talk to about being an adult besides his brothers. But he was trying to act like an adult anyway and that meant not calling his brothers every single time he ran into a problem. It usually meant he struggled alone, but he was old enough to be an adult so he was trying.

But still, sometimes he just really had to talk to them, especially when something was eating at him so much that he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He was _almost_ too sick of himself to be anxious; he was sick of himself enough to call his brothers, sure, but still anxious. He sat down at his kitchen table and called Ryan.

“I have something to tell you,” he said to Ryan when Ryan picked up.

“Jakey,” said Ryan, after a period of extended silence when Jake could not immediately bring himself to say anything else, “you wanna expand on that?”

Jake took a deep breath and then another and then he said what he’d known for years out loud for the first time, what had been eating him up inside since the season started. What had been eating him up since he got drafted. Since he started playing hockey, really.

“I’m gay,” he said. He waited for Ryan to hang up in shock or do something dramatic.

“Oh cool,” said Ryan without pausing. Jake heard what sounded like the side of a spoon scraping against a pot.

“_Cool?_” demanded Jake, who was suddenly equal parts relieved and miserable. “What do you mean, _cool?_”

“I mean, cool,” said Ryan, unaffected by Jake’s outburst. He did not stop stirring whatever he was making. “It’s cool.”

“Like cool with you or cool that I’m gay?”

“I don’t know,” said Ryan. “Both I guess.”

“You’re being very unhelpful,” Jake informed him, and he hung up and called his other brother.

“Ryan just told me,” said Gabe, when he picked up. “Congratulations.”

“On what, being gay?”

“No, coming out. That’s like, a thing. I think. A big thing?”

“What,” said Jake, putting all his emotions into the words, “the fuck.”

“I don’t know, you remember Alexei, my teammate from two years ago?”

“No?”

“Okay, well, anyway, he had a twin brother who was gay and it was a big deal when his brother came out to him. Like, Alexei bought his brother steak.”

“You’re going to buy me steak?”

“I mean, sure?” said Gabe.

“You’re also being very unhelpful,” said Jake and he hung up on him too. He was running out of brothers though, so he called Ryan back.

“Listen,” said Ryan, answering his call on the first ring. “I think I had the wrong reaction but I can’t take it back now. I love you. I’m proud of you. Thank you for telling me.”

“Google told you to tell me that,” said Jake. He was so tired and he missed his brothers so much.

“I am trying,” said Ryan, sounding insulted and also like he was still making dinner. “I don’t really know what to say. Like this doesn’t change anything. You’re still my dumbass brother. I still love you or whatever. I’m still proud of you kicking ass in the NHL.”

“Thanks,” said Jake. He didn’t feel miserable anymore. Maybe just a little mad. Maybe more relieved than anything else.

“I got you, buddy,” said Ryan.

Jake listened to him bang around the kitchen for a while. He wanted to go to bed and also eat whatever Ryan was making for dinner. They won against Dallas tonight and he scored a goal and got an assist; he should be happy, he shouldn’t be coming out as gay to his brothers on the phone late at night. But he couldn’t take it back now and when his phone chimed with a text message alert, it turned out that Gabe had sent him a text message of only heart emojis.

Gabe and Ryan weren’t helpful, but they still supported him, so at least he wasn’t alone with this thing about himself anymore. At least they knew and they were okay with it. It didn’t help him know what to do about being gay, but at least they loved him.

“Breathe, Jakey. You’re gonna be okay,” said Ryan. “Go to bed.”

“Yeah,” said Jake. “I’ll talk to you later, I guess.”

“Yeah, no, call me tomorrow,” said Ryan. “Or call Gabe. Call one of us. Or text us, or whatever.”

“You guys talk too much and are weird,” said Jake, but he was already trying to figure out the best time to call tomorrow. Maybe in the afternoon before his game.

“You’re weird,” said Ryan. “Go to bed.”

;;

The game in Boston was whatever. Nothing really felt that different. No one except his brothers knew he was gay so it wasn’t like anything the Bruins did was personal. A couple Bruins hurled some insults his way, mostly about his hair, and Tanger and Geno got really mad but that was pretty normal. 

Jake was sitting at his kitchen table drinking a protein shake and thinking about his pre-game nap before the game against Columbus that night when Gabe texted the group chat the three of them had. _let us up it’s freezing out here_

_Wrong number_ said Jake. _I didn’t know you had a roommate again_

_jakey we’re outside your house you tool. let us in before we freeze to death_

_Who’s us?_

_I swear to fucking god, Jake_ said Ryan. Jake buzzed them in.

They were on his floor and banging on his door within minutes. When Jake opened it, they had carry-on suitcases and twin determined looks in their eyes. Ryan hugged Jake so hard he lifted him off the ground. Gabe wasn’t much better, hugging him tight and yanking his head down so he could ruffle Jake’s hair.

“Get off,” said Jake, even though Gabe had him in a headlock and he hadn’t been able to get out of those basically ever. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re taking you out for steak,” said Gabe.

“I have a game,” said Jake.

“After,” said Ryan. “And we’re attending the game by the way, so get us good seats.”

“Ugh,” said Jake and went to call his in at the front office to get his brothers seats. Angela said she’d have tickets waiting at will-call.

“I’m taking a nap,” he said to Ryan. “Also, I don’t know where you think you’re sleeping tonight because I only have a bed and a couch.”

“We’ll figure it out,” said Ryan, flapping a hand at him. He was sitting at Jake’s kitchen table and kind of ignoring Jake as he googled something. Gabe was on the phone with his girlfriend in the living room.

Jake went to his bedroom and flopped on his bed on top of the covers. He was glad his brothers were here. He didn’t know why they had come now, however, because he hadn’t done anything to warrant a surprise visit. He came out to them, but they didn’t seem too worried at the time. Maybe they were though. They weren’t hard to read unless they wanted to be.

Gabe knocked on his door and then walked in without waiting for a response. Jake looked over at him. “What.”

“Just checking on you,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

“I could hear you thinking from the living room,” said Gabe.

“I wasn’t thinking,” said Jake.

“I could hear the static noise in your head from the living room,” said Gabe. He sat down on the bed next to Jake. “You wanna talk?”

“No,” said Jake.

“Okay,” said Gabe and he laid down next to Jake. “Nap time. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” said Jake without much heat.

“Oh cool,” said Ryan from the door of the bedroom. “Are we napping? Gabe and I had kind of a rough day of travel.” He came over and laid down on the bed, shoving Jake over until Jake was squashed uncomfortably in the middle between him and Gabe.

“Why are you guys so weird,” said Jake, elbowing them both until he was more comfortable. He would never tell them, but it was nice to have his brothers around him like they did when they were kids.

“You’re weird,” said Ryan. “Take a nap, you have a game.”

Jake elbowed him one more time because Ryan was being annoying. He fell asleep shortly after.

;;

He scored a hat trick in the game, his first of a regular season ever. He caught a glimpse of his brothers on the jumbotron as the hats came down; Gabe was jumping up and down and Ryan had his hands around his mouth, yelling. It was cool to have them there to witness something so big in his career.

He didn’t get a chance to wave at them or anything because Tanger body slammed him into the glass, screaming in his face about how he was elite. He got buried under teammates shortly after.

“Smile, kid,” said Cully to him, when Jake climbed over the boards at the bench for a line change. “It’s a big moment.”

“I am smiling,” Jake protested. He thought he was anyway, but now he was confused. Cully pointed up and Jake waved at the jumbotron. He smiled at the crowd who were yelling his name.

Cully cuffed Jake on the back of the head fondly. “Great job, kid,” he said and vaulted over the boards.

Jake shrugged and settled back into the game.

;;

Tanger told him in no uncertain terms that he was going out for drinks with the team and didn’t listen when Jake told him that he was getting dinner with his brothers. “Bring your brothers,” he said sternly.

Jake retrieved his brothers once he had done cool down and showered. Predictably, they were stoked at the idea of drinking with his team. It wasn’t a starstruck, drinking-with-Sidney-Crosby thing, he was pretty sure; it was the chance to embarrass the hell out of Jake in front of his team and that, with their status as older brothers, would never get old.

“Just, don’t tell them, okay?” said Jake, as Ryan drove them to the wine bar and Jake navigated. “They don’t know. Turn here. No, left turn.”

“Nothing to tell,” said Gabe from the backseat. He was looking at Yelp reviews. “Did you know that the cheapest bottle of wine at this restaurant is $115?”

Jake did know that, in fact, because Tanger and Dumo had dragged him out here before for rookie hazing, which mostly involved him buying bottle after expensive bottle of wine for the half the team until Sid showed up to yell at them for making Jake buy alcohol when he was a rookie and their DD.

“I’m serious,” Jake said.

“Jake,” said Ryan. “That’s your story to tell, not ours.”

Jake was pretty sure Ryan had spent game breaks researching what to say when someone you love tells you they’re gay because he didn’t usually sound that wise. Jake appreciated the effort, he guessed. Ryan was weird but he was trying and so was Gabe.

“Okay,” said Jake. “Thanks. It’s on the next block so just start looking for parking wherever.”

It turned out Sid had bought out the place, which was either terrible, because the team didn’t have to behave themselves, or great, because the team wouldn’t have to behave themselves. Geno and Tanger had left their cards behind the bar with strict instructions that anything was fine except French wineries. When Jake and his brothers walked in, he was pulled one way by Olli and Reeser and Gabe and Ryan were pulled another way by Dumo.

An hour and two $300 bottles of cabernet sauvignon later, he stumbled over to where Ryan and Gabe were holding court in a booth in the back of the room with a bunch of the older guys.

“What are you saying?” he demanded when he got close and the table turned laugh at him.

“Middle school edgelord phase,” said Gabe cheerfully. “Tell them about your Invader Zim bedsheets. He got them at Hot Topic.”

“Who’s Invader Zim?” asked Geno, sweetly.

Jake turned around and walked away with his middle finger up, relief cool in his chest. His brothers would never hurt him.

“Love you too, Jakey!” called Ryan.

“_Jakey?!_”

Well, they wouldn’t out him anyway.

;;

Gabe and Ryan had to go back to their respective homes the next day which sucked. Yeah, so Jake was trying to be an adult these days but that didn’t make him miss his family any less, especially his brothers. Their flight wasn’t until the afternoon though, so they had the luxury of being mildly hungover in Jake’s apartment while Jake had to go be deeply hungover in morning practice.

Morning practice sucked too, mainly because Sully immediately figured out who was hungover and to what degree they were hungover, and punished them accordingly. At least the trainers had put out garbage cans for them to puke in after he made Jake and Olli, last off the ice, bag skate for 10 minutes.

Jake nearly puked again when he finally sat down in the dressing room and Dumo threw a sweaty towel over his head.

“Why?” he said, brushing the towel off and swallowing bile. “Who hurt you, Dumo?”

Dumo ruffled Jake’s hair. “Did you throw up?” he said. “You smell like vomit.”

“We both did,” whined Olli, leaning over to either throw up again or unwrap the tape on his shin guards.

“Fuck’s sake,” said Tanger, cackling across the room. “Learn to hold your wine, boys.”

Sid passed them bottles of Gatorade, ever the responsible captain, even if he was making his “I’m not judging your decisions, I’m just really concerned about it affecting your game play” face. Jake hated to let him down, so he drank the whole bottle before he started undressing. Sid gave him another bottle after he finished undressing and then again after he came out of the shower, like any of this would make Jake feel like vomiting less.

“I’m gonna throw up Gatorade,” said Olli as they trudged through the parking lot together with Schultzy, who had come hobbling in during practice to get his leg checked by the medical staff. It was only 10:30 but the sun was already weak in the sky and Jake was regretting not bringing a beanie.

“He means well,” said Jake. “He’s just trying to take care of us.”

“Yeah, and I appreciate it, but I wish it didn’t involve so much fuckin’ yellow Gatorade,” said Schultzy, who had also been given several bottles of Gatorade that morning, like that would make his leg heal faster.

Reeser laid on the horn as they passed. Olli shrieked and bent over, coughing. Schultzy limped over to Reeser’s open window and threatened to break his windshield.

“If you break my windshield, I’ll tell Sid,” said Reeser, wheezing with laughter.

“Oh, Mama’s boy, huh?” said Schultzy, trying to climb through Reeser’s window to try to strangle him or something, Jake wasn’t sure. There was a lot of flailing going on.

“I gotta take my brothers to the airport,” he said to the scene at large.

“Bye Jakey,” said Reeser. He had a hand on Schultzy forehead and was giggling maniacally trying to hold Schultzy off.

“Don’t call me that,” said Jake. He patted Olli on back gently as Olli caught his breath, coughs turning into laughter, and left them to it.

His brothers had not been puking at home but they were blasting Ariana Grande so Jake figured it all came out in the wash. They had bought Jake Sausage McMuffins though so he forgave them. He wasn’t supposed to eat fast food this early in the season, but he was still hungover despite Sid’s best efforts. And he really loved Sausage McMuffins when he was hungover.

“I just don’t know how you can listen to this crap,” he said, mouth full as Ariana told them she was grateful for her ex-boyfriends or some dumb shit like that.

Gabe slapped the back of Jake’s head as he edged around him in Jake’s small kitchen to make another pot of coffee. “Don’t disrespect Ariana.”

“She’s like a gay icon or something, right?” said Ryan. “So you have to love her now.”

Jake thought that might be homophobic but he didn’t really know enough about homophobia or being gay to come up with a good argument against that. He settled for grimacing at Ryan.

“Eat your McMuffin,” said Ryan, patting his hand. Gabe refilled his mug with the last of the coffee in the pot.

Jake was going to miss them but he wasn’t going to say it out loud until they were gone. Even Geno had called him “Jakey” today at practice. If the nickname stuck, he was going to have to kill his brothers.

;;

His agent, Ben, called him after he had dropped his brothers off at the airport and was just rattling around his apartment putting off packing for Winnipeg. It had been an emotional drive home from the airport because even though Jake kept trying to be an adult, he just really liked having his brothers around. It felt safe or whatever, comfortable. Now he was alone again with this thing about him that no one in Pittsburgh knew.

Ben was back on Jake to push out contract negotiations to the end of the season, to try to get a better deal than what Rutherford was offering currently. If Jake played hardball, Ben said, he could get a lot more money. If Jake took them to the playoffs, his take home would be pretty significant. Ben had heard around the league that bunch of other RFAs were holding off on deals until the summer, until they proved what they could do. Imagine what Jake could make if did the same.

Jake was so sick of having this conversation.

“I don’t need to prove myself to Rutherford or anyone,” said Jake. “I want to be in Pittsburgh. Just get me a deal that’s fair.”

“Jake,” said Ben, sounding exasperated, “think of what you could make if--”

“Just get it done,” said Jake and hung up.

But hanging up meant he was alone again. He went to go pack and put on Stranger Things to keep him company.

;;

November ended pretty unspectacularly and the first game of December against the Flyers was just super embarrassing. He really wanted to punch Travis Konecny in the face by the second period but he figured that would only make Konecny more annoying and would get Claude Giroux after him so he refrained.

Reporters were saying dumb stuff about the golden era of the Pens being over. It was wearing on the team. It was only December, for fuck’s sake.

Their game against the Avalanche went way better. Jake got an okay goal in the first, even though the Avs tied it up in the second.

“Barrie’s an absolute weapon, hey?” he overheard Sid say to Tanger in the locker room during the second intermission after Sully got done yelling at them for their lackluster performance in the second period.

“Landeskog’s hotter,” said Tanger dismissively.

“I meant his game play,” said Sid.

“Same diff,” said Dumo.

“Fair,” said Sid with a shrug. He went back to retaping his stick. Tanger and Dumo started talking about the best place to get barbecue ribs in Pittsburgh. It was an old debate. 

Jake rested his head on the end of his stick, watching the room. He hadn’t been paying attention to anything besides kicking the Avs’ ass but maybe he should be if the Avs were attractive. He was gay; he was supposed to notice this stuff, right? Tanger did and he was married with a kid to woman. Jake was pretty sure Tanger was straight.

But Jake wasn’t good at focusing on anything but hockey. He tried to pay attention to the players during the game. Landeskog was attractive, he thought, watching him fly down the ice in the third. Good hockey was sexy hockey, everyone knew that, but Landeskog got kind of red in the face when he was fired up. Jake had never paid attention to things like that. It made him kind of uncomfortable to think about something like that in the middle of the game.

Horny got a natural hattrick and Jake put the Avs and Gabe Landeskog out of his mind.

;;

The team won and lost and then won and then lost and then won a bunch more and the shitty columns about how much the team sucked died down. On Christmas Eve, Jake got a call from Ben while he was baking cookies with his family, who came out to see him. It was more to celebrate the short break between games than Christmas; Jake’s apartment wasn’t big enough for a tree and he didn’t really have a reason to decorate. He wasn’t home that often and he had no one to make it worth his while to make the house particularly home-y anyway. He was more glad to see his brothers and get a hug from his mom and dad, even though they ribbed him for the lack of holiday cheer.

“Okay,” says Jake when Ben tells him how much and for how long. “I’ll take it.”

“Jake, can you think about it for a couple of days?” said Ben. “For me. Just think about your future and your value.”

“Sure,” says Jake. “I can think about it for a couple days but I’m still gonna take it.”

“You’re worth more than this,” said Ben, sounding weary.

“I know exactly what I’m worth,” said Jake. He tried to be nice; he felt kind of bad that the guy was working on Christmas Eve. He wasn’t sure if Ben celebrated Christmas, but he didn’t want to ruin it for the guy if he did. “I’m signing.”

“_What?_” said Ryan loudly. The kitchen fell silent.

“Was that your brother?” asked Ben. “Do you think he could talk some sense into you?”

“I think it’s a fair deal,” said Jake. “Ryan would tell me to take it. I don’t want to drag this out into the new year if I have a chance not to. I don’t want to distract from the season. We just won three in a row, that’s more important.”

“Yes, and you had five points across those three games,” said Ben. “Jake, if you take this team to the postseason, you could make Eichel money. Shit, you’ve already got one Cup, imagine what you’d make if you get another.”

“I’m not interested in comparables,” said Jake. “I’m where I want to be and I’m going to stay here. When can I sign?”

Ben sighed and told him he’d send details of when they’d meet Rutherford to sign. By Thursday at the latest, before their game against Detroit.

The kitchen exploded in noise when he hung up the phone. He was grinning. “5 years, $30 million,” he said and laughed when Ryan got teary-eyed. He hugged his mom. “I made it.”

That made his dad cry too. Gabe swung an arm around their father. “Jakey,” he said. “I’m so, so proud of you.”

“We all are,” said his mother, wrapping her arms around Jake. “Jake, this is huge.”

“I know,” said Jake.

“Don’t take it for granted,” said his dad, wiping his eyes.

“I won’t,” said Jake. He was so happy, he realized. Maybe he had been more worried about his contract then he had thought. He had tried not to think about contract negotiations when the season started unless Ben called him. It was a relief that he wouldn’t be getting those calls anymore, at least.

Or maybe he was just happy that he could finally make a real home in Pittsburgh. His apartment was really small, he thought, when the fire alarm went off while they were all hugging and crying and his family bumped into each other, laughing, in their attempt to save the cookies in the oven. He could get a bigger one. He could get one with a big kitchen and enough guest rooms for his whole family to stay with him during the holidays.

;;

His parents were staying at a hotel but Gabe and Ryan were staying at his house, ostensibly with Gabe on the couch and Ryan on an air mattress on the floor. That didn’t stop them from creeping into Jake’s bedroom at 12am and jumping on him.

“The fuck?” said Jake, shoving Gabe off and kicking Ryan in the stomach. “What is wrong with you two?”

“Question,” said Gabe, sitting down at the end of Jake’s bed. Ryan settled next to him, rubbing his stomach. “Have you hooked up with anyone since you came out to us?”

“Gross, I’m not talking about that with you?” said Jake, frowning. It was still dark in his bedroom and he could barely see his brothers. He turned on the lamp on his bedside table.

“So no,” said Gabe.

“No,” said Jake. “I don’t have time.”

Well, the other guys had time and Jake did too, but Jake wasn’t interested in one night stands. He’d never been good at hooking up, even when he thought he was straight. He didn’t like the anonymity of casual sex and the worry that someone would talk about him after. Everyone expected hockey players to hook up, but he didn’t like the idea of being gossip. The other guys were fine with it, maybe even relished it a little, but Jake didn’t like the attention. Women didn’t really pay attention to him that much anyway and men certainly didn’t unless they wanted his autograph. He was fine with that, generally.

“Uh huh,” said Ryan. “So listen, Gabe and I were thinking. Now that you’re making a shit ton of money and will be in Pittsburgh for at least 5 years, do you think you could settle down? Like, with a guy?”

“What,” said Jake. “No!”

The idea of settling down with a guy made him want to barf more than any bag skate. Thinking about coming out to someone other than his brothers made him want to run to the bathroom. To say nothing of his team -- his team was great, he loved them, but they weren’t family. He couldn’t even fathom what they’d say if he disappeared into a bathroom in a bar with a boy or if he showed up to an event with a man on his arm. He couldn’t imagine it would be anything good; it never had been in high school or college and those had been considerably lower stakes.

He picked up his pillow, mashed it against his face, and screamed.

“Jesus, Jake,” said Gabe, scrambling to the top of the bed to reach him. He yanked the pillow out of Jake’s hands. “Breathe.”

Jake took a deep breath and then another. Ryan watched them carefully from the end of the bed. He looked thoughtful.

“You don’t have to think about it now,” said Ryan, when Jake was breathing evenly again. “But I don’t -- _we_ don’t -- want you to be lonely for the rest of your life.”

“I’ll be fine,” said Jake. He felt panicked again at Ryan and Gabe’s care for him, anxiety rising thick in his chest. “I don’t--I’m not interested. I’m fine being alone. I’ll be alone for the rest of my life and that’s fine. I’ll be fine. I want to be alone. It’s safer. I deserve the security of being alone. It’s what they’re paying me for.”

He was well-aware that he wasn’t making sense and that he was starting to hyperventilate again.

“Bullshit,” said Gabe, rubbing Jake’s back. “Pittsburgh isn’t paying you to be lonely. Breathe, Jake! You deserve the security of being able to live comfortably in this world -- and you are now, you are more than comfortable -- but you don’t deserve to be alone because of Pittsburgh. Sure, everyone has the option of being alone and that’s fine, but don’t use Pittsburgh as an excuse not to think about the possibility of opening your life to someone. You’ve never had a real boyfriend, for fuck’s sake, you didn’t even date that much when you thought you were straight. You owe it to yourself to at least think about it. Breath, Jake, come on, deep breaths.”

“You’re ruining Christmas,” said Jake, struggling to breathe. That at least shut his brothers up for a while.

“Okay, Jake?” said Ryan, when Jake didn’t feel like screaming anymore. Jake realized abruptly that he had collapsed against Gabe in his attempt to calm down. He was also crying, which was the worst feeling in the world. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sat up. 

“No,” he said. And then, somewhat pathetically, “can you sleep in here tonight?”

“Of course,” said Gabe. He and Ryan got off Jake’s bed to get the air mattress. Jake watched them disappear into the hallway and come back again, wrestling the air mattress through the doorway and dropping it on the floor. It was a tight fit but apparently bringing it in was all pretense since they both climbed back onto his bed. That was a tight fit too so Jake was grateful he’d bought a king as his ELC-called-up-permanently-from-the-minors present to himself. Ryan turned off the light.

“It’ll be okay, Jakey,” whispered Gabe in the dark.

“You’ll be fine no matter what,” Ryan added.

Jake didn’t respond. He threw an arm over his face and willed himself to fall asleep.

;;

His family went home on the 26th and on the morning of the 27th in Rutherford’s office, Jake signed his contract. There were a million articles about it and then the Pens ended up winning another five games so everyone stopped asking him to comment on why he signed so quickly. The eight-game win streak was to celebrate Jake’s contract. Or so Tanger told him after Chicago snapped their streak at home. Jake had scored a goal in the game but he was still kind of heated about the game.

Reeser wrapped an arm around Jake’s shoulders and shook him. “Come on Guentz,” he said. The team had finally stopped calling him “Jakey”, much to Jake’s relief. “Lighten up. We’re doing okay. It’s just one loss, we’ll get it back.”

Jake nodded and shrugged Reeser off so he could take off his pads. “New year, new Pens,” he said, which made Reeser laugh.

“Jinx,” said Sid, concerned.

Olli threw a tape ball at Jake’s head. Jake batted it away.

Jake wasn’t thinking about how Dylan Strome had caught his eye and smirked at him across the ice. Jake wasn’t thinking about how he had flushed and Strome had winked at him and Jake wasn’t going to think about it ever if he could help it. He gritted his teeth and set his pads aside. That game was a shitshow because they lost, he reminded himself, and not for any other reason.

;;

In January, they won some and lost some and won some more. The team was kind of terrible again and people were saying that the Pens wouldn’t make the playoffs this year. Jake tried to ignore that and just play his game. He could only do his best.

Reeser broke his hand playing the Panthers which fucking sucked, because the team had a five game roadtrip on the West Coast and they really couldn’t afford to keep being terrible. Jake didn’t get a chance to visit him in the hospital before he had to take off with the team but Schultzy said he would check in on him. Jake was tired of his friends getting injured.

It was nice to get away from the East Coast and the cold at first. Jake got another hattrick, in Anaheim, and the fans booed him and it made him laugh. Anaheim were a terrible team but the hattrick still felt good. The team couldn’t get stupid drunk in Anaheim because they had a game the next day, but Olli and him went down to the hotel bar to drink a glass of whiskey each anyway. 

Olli pointed out girls in the bar that Jake could pick up, if he really tried, but Jake didn’t want to. “They’re all out of my league,” he said, which was true, regardless of his sexuality. Olli thought he was joking which he both was and wasn’t. Women were always out of his league, even if he were straight. He knew he was a weird-looking, kinda awkward guy and that wasn’t really attractive to anyone. He said the latter to Olli. Olli groaned and threw napkins at him and called him an idiot.

Jake started noticing things during their West Coast road trip though, after spending the evening in the hotel bar with Olli pointing out girls and the various good things each woman had going on. The woman in the red dress had cute lips, said Olli. The woman in the black pantsuit had nice eyes. The woman in skinny jeans and heels had beautiful legs. Jake had nodded and smiled at the time and directed the conversation to football. 

But once Olli had pointed out the various attributes in each of the women in the bar, Jake started noticing the men around him.

The pleased look on Tyler Toffoli’s face when he landed a good chirp on Geno in LA. Erik Karlsson’s laughter and dancing during warm-ups in San Jose. Clayton Keller snarling at him, pink-cheeked and angry, right after Jake scored in Arizona. It was uncomfortable to suddenly see people where he’d previously just seen players, rivals. It was uncomfortable to notice the possibilities in men around him.

Fucking Dylan Strome, Jake thought. If he hadn’t noticed the curl of Stromer’s smirk, the spark in his eye as he looked at Jake--if Strome hadn’t gotten under his skin, Jake wouldn’t be thinking about anyone at all.

At least Jake wasn’t noticing anything particularly interesting in his own team. They were the same as always, dumb and hot-headed and treating him like a kid brother even though he wasn’t the youngest anymore. 

He missed his real brothers more than anything but he was trying to be adult and it felt stupid to ask them what to do when something in his chest contracted when he saw another guy smile. Jake wasn’t a teenager anymore; he could deal with this on his own. He sent them pro-Team Canada memes to make them mad instead.

It was a relief to come home to Pittsburgh, to take the All-Star break off just to sit around Reeser’s house and shoot the shit with him and Olli and Schultzy. Reeser bitched a lot about being placed on IR. Schultzy had been doing solo skates, so he was a bit happier. Jake was just happy to come back to a place where he didn’t have to worry so much. Things would go back to normal after the All-Star break, he was sure.

Until Nikita Kucherov checked him hard into the glass and said, “nothing personal, babe,” when Jake asked him what the fuck his problem was. Jake had been called “babe” hundreds of times since he reached the NHL, because it was all anyone ever said, but it never hit him quite the same way. Maybe because Kucherov grinned at him as he said it, all teeth. Kucherov was the same height as him. Jake never cared about stuff like that before. He never even noticed stuff like that before. He swiped at Kucherov’s shins in retaliation but the ref didn’t see and Kucherov just laughed at him as they both took off down the ice again.

Fucking Olli, Jake thought, at the end of the game when he was standing in the showers trying wash off every uncomfortable feeling he had felt that month. This was his fault too. Jake never noticed anything about anyone before.

“Jake, you okay?” asked Sid, stepping around him in a towel. He looked concerned. 

Jake glanced at him, felt nothing, and scrubbed a hand through his hair to try to get the last of the shampoo out. He was just going to go home and shower again, he thought. Why did he bother washing his hair at the arena? He started to frown and then checked himself. He didn’t want to worry Sid. Sid had enough to worry about right now.

“Yup,” said Jake. “Just tired. Long month. You’d think the All-Star break would have been a good rest, but we just jumped back into the fire again.”

“Yeah,” said Sid. “Keep your head up, though. You’re doing great. We’ll get it back.”

“Thanks,” said Jake. “I’m trying.”

Sid smiled at him, benevolent and kind, and left the showers. Jake scrubbed at hand through his hair again and glared at the tile wall in front of him.

;;

Sid texted them all after morning practice on the 1st to let them know that Brassard and Sheahand had been traded to the Florida for Nick Bjugstad and Jared McCann. Brassard was an okay guy but they’d never been particularly close so Jake wasn’t too heated about that but Sheahand was a good guy and Jake was going to miss him. He didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye like the rest of the team before someone removed Sheahand and Brassard from the team group chat while he had been making a protein shake. He hadn’t checked his phone immediately when the messages came through.

He texted them separately to say that it had been good playing with them and good luck in Florida. Sheahand sent him a little yellow heart emoji. Brassard sent him a gif of a penguin falling over. They seemed like they were going to be okay.

Jared didn’t know a lot about Bjugstad and McCann. It was always nice to meet new people and maybe they’d help the team turn it around. Bjugstad, specifically, was huge and a decent player and probably the reason for the trade; Jake remembered being slightly shocked the first time he’d been on in a face off with the guy. He’d towered over Jake, polite and tall and good. Jake hadn’t thought anything of it at the time but now that he was noticing players, he figured the memory of his chest feeling tight when he looked up at the guy probably meant something.

Sid told them that Bjugstad and McCann were playing in that night’s game against Ottawa, which the team had many questions about.

_The fuck? Are they going to get here in time??_ Dumo asked.

_how are they getting here lmao_ said Teddy.

_tf are they really not even going to practice w us_ said Schultzy, who had finally been practicing with the team again, even if he wasn’t cleared to play yet.

_They’ll be here and they’ll be good_ said Sid with the finality and surety of a captain, so the team went back to debating who was going to take Konecny out in their stadium game later that month and whether it was even worth it if it got Wayne Simmonds after them. Probably, was the consensus.

After a quick glance at Google, Jake threw in that Bjugstad was a good 7 inches taller than Konecny, so maybe he would take one for the team as the new guy and do it. Everyone seemed to like that idea and Jake went to take a nap.

;;

McCann and Bjugstad must have hauled ass in the locker room because they made it to the ice right before the National Anthem even though there had been no sign of them up until the team was settling on the bench and the starters were on the ice. The lights were coming down as Bjugstad and McCann walked into the box, blades loud on the ground as the arena fell into a hush when Jeff stepped onto the ice to sing. Sid nodded at them. Jake noticed that they were both taller than him and then he looked up at the flag when Jeff started singing the Anthem.

Bjugstad and McCann did not fit seamlessly into the team in the first period, which was fair, because they probably barely had time to look at the lineup before they hit the ice. They didn’t do terribly, but they didn’t do particularly great either. The first period was painful and a mess, but Jake and Teddy both managed to score goals and the team hit the dressing room during intermission more energetic than annoyed.

Sully yelled at the team for sloppy play and stupid penalities for a little bit and then gestured at McCann and Bjugstad, who were both chugging water. “Boys,” he said, “introduce yourself.”

Bjugstad nodded at Sully and looked around the room. “Nick Bjugstad,” he said. “Nice to meet you. You can call me Bjuggy if you want. Or Nick, either is fine. Looking forward to showing you what Canner and I can really do in the second period.”

Canner set down his water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Jared McCann. You can call me whatever. I’m excited to be here. Sorry we sucked that period.”

Sully said, “you’ll do better in the second and third period.” He said it like there wasn’t another option which was probably true. “See if you can stretch a bit before we hit the ice again.”

Sid looked horrified. “You didn’t stretch?”

“We did a bit on the plane,” said Bjuggy, “but there wasn’t a whole lot of room.”

“Explains why you guys were so stiff,” said Tanger.

“Ayyyy,” said Canner cheerfully. It was enough to break the awkward tension that always followed guys admitting they’re not playing great. Everyone laughed.

Sid got up and started leading Bjuggy and Canner through some light stretches, as much as they could do in their pads and skates. The room went back to its usual intermission noise.

Jake drank a Gatorade and watched them stretch. There wasn’t much they could do with their pads on. No wonder they were sloppy that period. He couldn’t imagine getting off a plane and immediately playing a game without even stretching first, let alone not doing pregame warm-ups.

“Jake,” Sid called as he had Bjuggy and Canner prop their legs against the seats of their stalls. “Come be a footrest.”

Jake set his Gatorade aside and walked over. He sat down next to Sid and held onto Canner’s ankle when Canner put his leg across Jake’s knee. Thank God he and Bjuggy were wearing skate guards.

“Hey,” said Canner, bending over so he could stretch his adductors. He was smiling. “Jake Guentzel.”

“Yeah,” said Jake. “Nice to meet you, Canner.”

“Great goal,” said Canner. “Sorry I fucked up that one line change so bad.”

“It’s cool,” said Jake. And then, because he felt like he had to say something, while Canner was still bent over and smiling at him, “you’re pretty good at winning faceoffs.”

“I’m okay,” said Canner. “I’m better when I’ve stretched properly.”

“So you’ll be better next game,” said Jake, as Canner stood up and then propped his other leg on Jake’s knee.

“I’ll be better next period,” said Canner and then he fucking winked at Jake before bending so far over that he could almost touch Jake’s hand.

Jake remembered abruptly hearing rumors a while back that Canner was a huge dick when he was in Vancouver. He frowned but Canner had his head ducked down as he stretched and couldn’t see.

“You’d better,” Jake said.

“Oh, I will,” said Canner. He stood up again, still smiling. “Nice to meet you, Guentz.”

“Yeah,” said Jake and they didn’t have any more time for conversation because it was time to get back on the ice.

Canner got two minutes for slashing, if that was supposed to prove that he played better when he stretched, and the Sens scored on the Power Play. He wasn’t great at winning faceoffs in the second. Bjuggy had an assist on Rusty’s goal though, so at least the trade wasn’t entirely a bust already.

Third period intermission meant that Sully yelled some more and Sid told them all to get their shit together. Jake chugged a Gatorade and did his best to ignore Canner cracking jokes with Olli and looking over at Jake, laughing at him. What the fuck was this guy’s problem, Jake thought, breaking down and glaring at Canner when Canner looked over at him and laughed again. He didn’t do anything to Canner.

Canner looked away, but he was still smiling. He didn’t look at Jake again for the rest of the intermission.

The third period was a high scoring shitshow but Jake managed to get another goal and the Pens won, so whatever. He did his cool down with headphones on so he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. It was petty, but he wasn’t feeling social. Jaked had noticed that when Colin White smiled, it reached his eyes. He was sick of noticing things.

He showered and dressed in his gameday suit, feeling grumpy and missing his brothers. He was halfway through the parking lot to his car when he heard someone jogging up behind him.

“Hey,” said Canner. “Hey, Guentzel. Jake. One second.”

“What?” snapped Jake. He was so tired after that game, more tired than usual.

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” said Canner. “During third period intermission. I wasn’t laughing at you.”

“The fuck you weren’t,” said Jake. 

“I wasn’t,” said Canner. “Olli was making fun of how we look alike when we’re dressed for the game. I just thought it was funny.”

Jake stared at Canner, at his brown hair, still wet from the shower, curling against the top of his ears. He stared at Jared’s broad shoulders, at his apologetic expression. He felt the couple of inches Canner had on him, but Jake was pretty sure that he was older than Canner.

“We don’t look anything alike,” he said, finally. He wasn’t sure he fully believed Canner, but that was also exactly the kind of stupid shit Olli would say.

“I know!” said Canner. “But Olli kept saying we looked like twins. It was so stupid that I couldn’t believe it.”

“Canner!” Bjuggy yelled across the parking lot. “You done apologizing to Guentz? Let’s go! We got an early flight!”

“You didn’t actually apologise,” said Jake to Canner.

“I’m sorry,” said Canner and he smiled at Jake. “See you tomorrow. Toronto, yeah? Should be fun.”

Jake hated early flights more than anything and hated Toronto almost as much as he hated Philly. But he wasn’t about to say any of that to Canner, who was looking at him hopefully like Jake had something interesting to say. “Yeah, see you tomorrow,” he said.

“Jared!” yelled Bjuggy again.

Canner hit Jake’s shoulder and ran off to join Bjuggy. Jake watched them pile their suitcases into the trunk of a coaching staff member’s car. He probably should have offered to drive them to the team hotel, as a show of goodwill or something.

He got in his car without waiting to see if they’d left the parking lot. He turned on the heat and sat for a couple of minutes, waiting for the car to warm up before he hit the road.

Canner was super weird, he decided, after mulling it over. But it was nice that he cared enough about Jake to apologize for being weird. Jake had played with weird guys who hadn’t apologized for being weird and let their weirdness build up until they were grade-A assholes and miserable to be around. Canner seemed like he had enough self-awareness not to be an asshole. Maybe he had chilled out since his rough start in Vancouver. Florida probably did that to players, made them humble in the sunshine.

Ryan called him while he was still thinking about it. “Hey Jakey,” he said. “Was that a good game or a rough game? I literally could not tell.”

“It sucked,” said Jake and spent his drive home dissecting the game with Ryan until he felt better about their chances in Toronto tomorrow. The team would get it back.

;;

They lost the next four in a row, including once to the Panthers on Florida’s home ice, which just made them look like they got the shitty end of the trade. That was always the worst feeling, Jake thought -- you lose friends and you also look like a terrible team. Well, maybe the Pens were a terrible team. They were certainly playing like it. And anyway, they really didn’t get the bad end of the trade; Bjuggy and Canner were good players. It was just that the whole bench was struggling.

Jake got a drink with Sheahand after the game with some of the guys and listened to Sheahand tell him that the fact that he could go swimming in February had not yet gotten old. “I can literally do water aerobics whenever I want,” he said. “I went swimming this morning before practice. For fun. This place is incredible.”

“Yeah, I miss you too,” said Jake.

Sheahand waved a hand at him “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Talk to me when you’re sick of the snow. It stops being picaresque by Valentines Day, remember?”

Across the bar, Bjuggy and Canner were laughing uproariously with their old teammates. Jake watched them. Sheahand followed his gaze. “The guys only say the nicest things about Bjugstand and McCann,” he said. “You don’t hear that a lot.”

Canner looked over at Jake, smiled, waved. Jake raised his glass and turned back to Sheahand. “What do they say?”

“I mean, you’ve gotta know by now, right? Humble and hungry but not assholes about it, you know? Nice guys who play hard and show up for their team. I mean, have you ever seen Canner not smile?”

Canner took a lot of penalties for someone who wasn’t guaranteed a spot every night, Jake figured, but he also cracked jokes when he thought Jake was tense. Canner got Jake’s number in Toronto and spent the entire flight home from Toronto after that stupid loss sending Jake pro-antifa and pro-union memes over the shitty airplane WiFi to make Jake feel better. Jake was a little alarmed at how many of the memes contained Gritty but they were all really funny and it was hard to stay mad about the game. He sent some of the better memes to his brothers.

_awww jakey finally has a good opinion about politics_ said Gabe.

_Well well well_ said Ryan. _Look who regrets the White House visit._

Jake did, actually, regret the White House visit quite a bit these days but he sent a middle finger emoji to his brothers anyway. He looked over at Canner across the plane. He was hunched up under a blanket with his knees against the seat in front of him, phone three inches from his face and giggling quietly while Bjuggy snored next to him. He looked up and smiled at Jake. Jake waved at him and went back to the text message chain with his brothers until Canner sent another meme about Gritty seizing the means of production. Jake wasn’t even sure what that meant but he could hear Canner choking back laughter across the plane so he figured it was funny enough.

Canner smiled a lot. It was hard not to notice that about him. But Jake wasn’t going to pretend that Canner was the heart and the soul of the trade. It wasn’t like Bjuggy wasn’t just as much of a good guy. Bjuggy was a natural leader, funny and kind. He was slowly getting some of the guys into gourmet coffee which was somehow turning into a bonding experience. Cully was glad to have someone with whom he could have incomprehensible conversations about fair trade beans, a topic no one had previously had any kind of opinion on or interest in. Jake wasn’t wild about trying new coffee for the fun of it but Teddy and Olli were getting really into it and Canner was up for anything, apparently.

“Dunno,” said Canner, when Jake asked him what he was drinking one morning before practice. “Bjuggy orders it for me ‘cause I’m the one who drives us around. It’s good. Want to try?” He held up the paper cup.

Jake had mostly been asking--well, he wasn’t sure why he was asking. To make conversation, he guessed, because Canner was just chilling next to Jake’s stall, waiting for his own stall to clear out while Bjuggy dealt with some media. Jake took the cup, took a sip, decided he hated it, and handed it back.

Canner laughed at him. “Nick’s going to make you his personal coffee project if he finds out how much you hated that.”

“Please don’t tell him,” said Jake, and he was smiling and he didn’t know why.

So yeah, they were both great guys. Jake knew the Pens got a good deal out of that trade.

;;

They won against the Flyers in Philly, which should have been a good feeling, but Jake was just about ready to hire a hitman on Konecny and that goddamn chaos demon of a mascot, antifa or no. Something had to give. He was not put on this planet to spend his career being told by Konecny to eat up. What the fuck did that even mean.

The worst part was that Jake had noticed that if Nolan Patrick shaved or even just washed his hair, the flush in his cheeks would be more pronounced, something that was already quite appealing. Jake was considering killing himself for noticing anything good about the Flyers. Or maybe he would kill Patrick. Both options had their pros and cons. Olli had been pulled from the game and was still getting checked out by trainers.

While Jake was on a bike, Canner apologized for sending him Gritty memes, like it was his fault the Flyers were terrible all the time except when they played the Pens, even though the Flyers lost tonight. It was the second time Canner apologized to him, but this time he was holding back laughter, sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

“Are you ever not happy?” Jake asked in lieu of accepting his apology.

“When it matters,” said Canner with a shrug and left him alone to brood during cool down. Jake didn’t really want him to leave but Canner was already at the door attempting a complicated high five with Cully.

Ben sent Jake an email after the game with a vaguely threatening tone about getting a financial advisor so Jake could figure out what to do all his money for the next five years. Jake wasn’t about to waste his money on cars and women like Ben seemed to believe he would, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about buying a house and he figured it was probably worth seeing a financial advisor about that.

He gave into the fact that he was really bad at being an adult and asked Sid for some recommendations of financial advisors and realtors in the area after morning practice the next day. It was the proudest day of Sid’s life, Jake was pretty sure, based on how Sid lit up when Jake asked. “Of course, Jake,” said Sid and three hours later a courier interrupted Jake’s Stranger Things marathon to deliver a thick manila envelope of recommendations for financial advisors, realtors, and banks, a two-page long checklist of what to ask financial advisors on your first visit, three pages of considerations for buying houses in Pittsburgh, and a set of printed out instructions on how to get a library card. Jake turned off Stranger Things and made an appointment to meet with a financial advisor that day.

The financial advisor helped him sort through his goals. “Start looking at houses now,” she said. “You may not be able to pay in cash yet but you do have collateral and it’s good to start getting a feel for what you want now before you buy.”

Jake wasn’t sure if he was being condescended to or not, but they had a three game homestand and he didn’t have anything better to do. A lot of the guys were just staying at home these days. There wasn’t a lot to celebrate. He contacted a realtor and set up an appointment to see some places.

They won against Edmonton and the next day Jake put on a nice button-up and slacks so he would look mature when he met with the realtor.

_hey what are you up to?_ Canner asked Jake while Jake was standing in the bathroom trying to make himself look less like a teenager. The hair wasn’t helping. _want to hang out?_

It was the first time Canner had ever asked if Jake wanted to hang out before without any of the other guys. They sent each other a lot of memes for two guys who didn’t spend that much time together outside of the arena. Kinda nice of Canner to ask him; he wished he could hang out instead of going to see houses by himself.

_I can’t. I’m going to see some houses_ said Jake. _I’m thinking of buying later this year._

_oh cool!_ said Canner. _make sure you get a full inspection before you buy or you’ll fuck yourself over. you’re making way too much money to get a shitty house that’s going to need massive renovation in six months. preferably get someone in construction to do the walk through, they’ll have an eye for structural imperfections._

_Why would I need an inspection?_ Jake asked. _Why would they sell me a house that’s going to fall apart in six months?_

_jfc_ said Canner and that was how Jake found out that Canner had family who worked in construction. That was also how he ended up picking up Canner and taking him to the viewings with his realtor. He didn’t even have to tell Canner to dress nicely either. Canner emerged from the team hotel’s lobby wearing a blue button-up that brought out his eyes.

“Did you shower?” asked Jake when Canner slid into the front seat. Canner was still zipping up his peacoat; it was snowing again. His cologne made him smell earthy, calming.

“Did you comb your hair?” Canner shot back like Jake had been making fun of him.

“I tried,” said Jake. “There’s not a whole lot I can do with it though.”

Canner looked at him completely blank-faced. Then he shook his head. “Bro, we have got to get you a better barber. You can afford it now.”

Jake’s realtor, Linda, was completely unbothered for all the wrong reasons by Canner tagging along and pointing out the structural flaws in every single house. “It’s so nice to see young couples thinking proactively about their future,” she said cheerfully, cornering Jake in a kitchen that Jake privately thought was too small. Canner was off in another room frowning at window sills. “Mr. Guentzel, you should have said you had a partner -- are you two thinking about children yet? This neighborhood is in one of the better school districts, though I’m certain I could arrange viewings in the very best. Or are you thinking of private schools? There aren’t any in this neighborhood unfortunately but I was thinking of showing you a house later this month closer to the city that is incidentally close to private schools.”

Jake was so caught off guard that the only thing he could think to say was “we’re not dating?” He didn’t mean for it to sound like a question. He didn’t know what to say. His mind had gone blank.

“Of course,” said Linda, her face going soft and understanding. “I value your need for discretion. You can trust me, but I’m happy to sign a non-disclosure agreement if you’d like, just have it faxed to my office. You wouldn’t be the first athlete I’ve worked with who wants privacy above all things. In fact, there are some neighborhoods that welcome that need for privacy.”

“You want privacy?” said Canner, wandering back into the kitchen. “You didn’t tell me that. I would have been looking at the fences.”

“Uh,” said Jake. His mind had gone from blank to roaring static noise.

Canner draped himself across Jake’s shoulders in a rare and inconvenient moment of physical affection. “Guentz, these windows are too small to let in good light during the day,” he remarked. His breath was warm against Jake’s cheek.

“There are better neighborhoods for this kind of thing,” said Linda with a knowing smile.

“Sorry,” said Canner, stiffening against Jake. “What kind of thing?”

Linda waved at them. “You know. Young love.”

Canner stood up. Jake looked at him. He thought Canner might have looked furious but the expression was gone quickly, replaced by his pleasant media scrum face. “What’s next?” Canner asked politely.

“I’ve got one more house,” said Linda. She didn’t seem to notice Canner flipping the switch from authentic to meaningless. “Come, let’s go see.”

Canner made Jake stop for ice cream on their way back to the hotel even though it was still snowing.

“I don’t like your realtor,” he said and took a huge bite of his vanilla sundae.

“She’s fine,” said Jake. He dug his spoon into his ice cream, a deep red strawberry cream, but couldn’t muster up the strength to take a bite. “She just. Uh. Is confused. About us. I guess.”

He didn’t know how to address that she thought he and Canner were dating or why. He didn’t know how to address the conversation at all. Canner did though.

“I just don’t think you should have someone selling you a house who thinks that gay people should be relegated to a single neighborhood.”

“Uh,” said Jake. He was really winning at being eloquent today. “I think she meant more that I might want privacy for, uh, if I ever date someone. Like how Sid built his whole house so he could have privacy. I think she meant it like that.”

“I had a boyfriend in Vancouver,” said Canner, looking straight at Jake, “who thought that the best places to live were the places that were safest for queer people. He wasn’t wrong. That is absolutely a consideration you should have. But closing yourself off to entire neighborhoods because this lady wants you and your boyfriend to live wth other gay people alone--”

“I’m not,” said Jake. He could his heart beating in his head, it was echoing so loud in his chest. “I mean. I’m not dating anyone. I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t have a girlfriend. I don’t have anyone. I don’t have to worry about that.”

“No shit?” said Canner, looking surprised. “Who do you text all the time?”

Jake took out his phone and looked at the top two conversations in his messages. Predictably: “uh, my brothers. And you.”

“Lucky me,” said Canner. “Well, whatever. Boyfriend, girlfriend, whoever, just don’t let yourself get locked into a single neighborhood because this lady wants you to be there.”

Jake took a bite of his ice cream because it was easier than looking at Canner.

“Don’t be weird, Guentz,” said Canner. He leaned over and scooped out a little bit of Jake’s ice cream from the cup.

“Sorry,” said Jake, looking up. Canner was staring at him, waiting. He tried to smile, ended up grimacing. “Thanks for looking after me, Canner.”

“Call me Jared,” said Jared.

“Sure,” said Jake. “Call me Jake.”

They ate the rest of their ice cream in silence, but it wasn’t too uncomfortable.

;;

They lost against Calgary but won against the Rangers and edged their way into a playoff spot -- wildcard, but still. It was better than nothing. Sid bought out the wine bar again, for team bonding or something. Attendance was required but wives and girlfriends were invited. Jake was just glad that everyone was de-stressing for a night. It had been a tense week for a bunch of reasons. He had another house viewing in a couple days after their trip to New Jersey and he didn’t know if he should ask Jared to come with him or not. He hadn’t fired Linda. She had listened to his request for bigger kitchens and promised him houses with some of the biggest.

He ended up slumped at a table with Jared and Olli at the wine bar. Olli couldn’t even drink because he was still injured. Jared had been nursing the same glass of red wine for the past two hours. Jake was on his third glass of fuck knows what, maybe reisling; he had Tanger order for him and then just kept getting their waiter to refill it with the same stuff. They were all picking at a charcuterie board with some meat they couldn’t identify when Sid slid into a chair next to Olli.

“Hey boys,” he said.

“Captain,” said Jared, raising his glass of wine to him. Jake knocked his glass against Sid’s in a toast.

“Sure,” said Sid agreeably. His cheeks were slightly flushed, though probably less from the alcohol and more because Anna and Geno had been roasting him all night. “Canner, how are you?”

“Oh, so Guentz and I can go fuck ourselves,” said Olli with a snort.

“Hush,” said Sid. “You didn’t get traded three weeks ago.”

“I’m doing good,” said Jared. “It was a little bit of an adjustment but everyone has been really welcoming and nice. It’s cool to be on a team where people like each other a lot.”

“Good,” said Sid. “I heard you’re still living in the team hotel?”

“Yeah,” said Jared with a shrug. “Haven’t had a lot of time to go apartment hunting. It’s not so bad, Nick is still there with me. He lives on the same floor so we can hang out.”

Jake looked at him. Jared didn’t have a lot of time to go apartment hunting? He’d spent an entire day being dragged around greater Pittsburgh with Jake and a realtor just to look at houses Jake wasn’t even going to buy. Jake felt kind of bad. Maybe he should offer to go apartment hunting with Jared. That seemed fair.

"Well, if you're fine there," said Sid. "Let me know if you need a realtor. I know it can get rough when you have an SO living out of a hotel with you. Actually, do you have someone with you?"

"Nah," said Jared. "My last boyfriend broke up with me the minute I told him I got traded here. Didn't want to do long distance."

"God, that's fucked," said Olli, without pause. He picked up a piece of cheese with his fingers.

Jake stared at Jared. Jared had said "boyfriend" like it wasn't a big deal. Jared said "boyfriend" in front of Sid and Olli and he didn't look nervous or uncomfortable. Jared said "boyfriend" like nothing. Jared said “boyfriend” and it sounded normal.

Sid blinked and said, "I'm sorry. That's awful."

"He was kind of a dick," said Jared. "I wasn't super mad. I get a fresh start in Pittsburgh, right?"

He was looking right at Jake as he said that. Jake tried to smile comfortingly but his whole mind was screaming; Jared said "boyfriend" and no one said anything.

"New school, new babe pool," Olli quoted.

"Yeah," said Sid, nodding. Jake would put money on Sid having never seen _She's The Man_. "Well, Canner, I'm here for you if you need anything. Break ups are hard, especially if you're the one being dumped."

"Thanks, man," said Jared. "But I'm okay. There will be other, better men. Hopefully in Pittsburgh."

Jake picked up a piece of mystery meat and stuffed it in his mouth. Why was Jared still looking at him. Did Jared know about him? He downed the rest of his glass and got up to get another one.

“What’s his problem?” he overheard Olli asked as he walked away.

“Think he’s feeling that late-season stress,” said Jared calmly.

“I’ll talk to him,” Sid said. “That’s not appropriate.”

“No, we’re good,” said Jared.

Jake found Tanger and made him buy a bottle of whatever the fuck he was drinking. He downed a third of it before going back to the table with two clean glasses. Sid was gone and so was Olli. Jared was eating cheese, looking thoughtful as Jake approached.

“Sorry,” said Jake, sitting down across from Jared. He filled both glasses and passed one to Jared.

“I’m serious, don’t be weird, Jake,” said Jared.

“I’m trying,” said Jake.

Jared raised his glass. Jake tapped the rim of his against Jared’s. “Cheers,” Jared said.

“Cheers,” said Jake and drank.

Luckily, Teddy came stumbling over to their table at that moment. He crashed into a chair next to Jake, and demanded to know their opinion on Tom Brady. Apparently a bunch of guys had been arguing about football all evening. It readily became apparent that it was a semantics issue between Americans, Canadians, and everyone else and not about Tom Brady at all.

Jared jumped into the debate with startling vehemence for a Canadian. Jake drank and watched.

;;

They won in New Jersey, holding onto that wildcard spot with their teeth. They played the Sharks on Pride Night. Jake tried not to look at Erik Karlsson during warm-ups but he was dancing again. Jake was sick of his life if this was all he was going to do, play hockey, notice other men, and feel uncomfortable.

During pre-game warm ups, Jared tossed a puck to a kid wearing a rainbow scarf and a Pens Pride shirt. Jake watched him and tried not to smile but Jared came skating up to him anyway. “What do you think of that?” Jared asked.

“You’re a good guy,” said Jake. He was smiling, unfortunately, couldn’t help himself.

“Aw, buddy,” said Jared. “That’s nice.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Jake told him and snowed him as he went off to go shoot pucks at Muzz. He could hear Jared laughing as he left.

They lost the game to a shut-out. Jake felt like he had let people down but he didn’t know who.

;;

The stadium game against the Flyers was a fucking shitshow. It was raining, the Flyers were in peak shithead form, Tanger and Dumo got injured, and the Flyers scored on a Power Play while Cully was in the box which just pissed everyone off. Schultzy and Reeser were both back and working like crazy to make up for their absences. Jared started a bunch of fights that didn’t go anywhere. Konecny would not shut the fuck up. The Pens lost in overtime on a Giroux goal. Giroux was a gentleman about it to Sid which pissed everyone off even more.

Sid bought out another wine bar in Philadelphia. Attendance to get shitfaced to soothe the wound of losing, once again, to the Flyers was non-optional. “We need it,” he said grimly when someone asked him why they couldn’t just go home. Coaching staff were excused from this one. It was like a players’ only meeting but with expensive cabernet.

Jake dealt with consolatory text messages from his brothers and went to rally Schultzy and Reeser and Jared and Bjuggy in the hotel; he had never seen his friends so pissed off about drinking. He figured they had nothing to lose by doing shots at the hotel bar before going to the wine bar, so he made them all do kamikazes and tipped the bartender 75% when they were done. It helped.

They piled into an Uber and pretended they weren’t who they were when their Uber driver asked if they were in town for the series. It was funnier that way. The wine bar was dimly lit but the music was loud and Sid and Geno had already dropped their credit cards behind the bar, no stipulations for alcohol this time. Jared procured two bottles of ice wine that Geno was definitely not going to kill him for buying on his card and shoved Jake into a booth alone.

“Drink up,” he said, pouring Jake a glass.

“What the fuck does ‘eat up’ mean?” Jake asked him after they’d both downed their wine like it was another shot and not dessert wine. He flagged down a waiter and asked for cake.

“I have no fucking idea,” Jared said, pouring Jake another glass.

“I just wish I understood him,” said Jake. “Like, what goes through his head that he never stops talking.”

“If you spend your career trying to figure out what anyone says on ice and why, but especially if you try to figure out Konecny, you’re gonna fucking lose it, man,” said Jared.

“Yeah,” said Jake and drank his second glass. Jared poured him a third. “You’re right.”

“Can we talk about something other than Konecny?” Jared asked. He finished his own glass.

“Sure,” said Jake. “Do you think Sid has actually seen _She’s the Man_?”

He’d been thinking about this off and on for a week. It had kind of been bothering him.

“100% no,” said Jared immediately. “I hope you’re the one to show it to him.”

“I hope you’re the first person to text me goodbye when I get traded right after,” said Jake and finished his third glass. Jared matched him and pour them each a fourth glass.

“Nah, he likes you too much,” said Jared. “He’d probably sit through like, any of the High School Musical movies if it made you happy.”

“_She’s the Man_ isn’t Disney Channel, get it right,” said Jake. He was smiling and it was all wine, probably.

Jared was grinning at him. “No shit,” he said. “Channing Tatum is a weapon though.”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” said Jake without thinking about it.

Jared leaned in and kissed him. Jake froze.

Jared leaned back. “You okay?” he asked, brow furrowed.

Jake was a little convinced that if he opened his mouth, he might start screaming, so he nodded.

“No, you’re not okay,” said Jared.

“No,” said Jake helplessly and then clapped his hands over his mouth.

“Jesus, dude,” said Jared. “Stay here, I’m getting us water.”

He disappeared into a crush people by the bar. Jake crossed his arms against his chest and shivered. It wasn’t cold in the bar.

Jared reappeared with two giant glasses of water. “Drink,” he said, sliding into the both next to Jake and passing him a glass.

Jake drank.

“I read this entire situation wrong,” said Jared, when they’d both drunk half of their glasses of water.

“You really did,” said Jake. He was still shaking.

“I didn’t read you wrong though,” said Jared. And then: “hey, Jake. Take a deep breath.”

“Sorry,” said Jake. “I’m trying not to be weird. I’m sorry. Fuck.”

“You’re being really fucking weird,” said Jared. “But I think I get it now. Are you out to anyone?”

“Just my brothers,” said Jake. He rested his elbows against table, pressed his hands against his face.

Jared touched Jake’s back tentatively and then, when Jake did not shake him off, rubbed his back in slow, small circles. Jake took some deep breaths, trying to feel it in the bottom of his chest. His whole world had come unbalanced in a matter of seconds and it was nice for someone to touch him right now even if it was a guy who just kissed him. It was grounding.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Jake said into his hands.

“I know my reputation kind of precedes me, but I’m trying really hard not to be an asshole anymore,” said Jared. 

“You’re not an asshole,” said Jake. He was still having some trouble breathing. “You’re a good guy.”

“But you really think you can’t trust me?” Jared pressed.

“I don’t think--I don’t trust anyone,” said Jake. “Like, my brothers. But that’s it. I don’t even trust my parents. How did you know? Is it obvious?”

“Jake,” said Jared. “You were giving me some seriously mixed messages. I figured you were either a huge douchebag or just really fuckin’ closeted. I took a chance on the latter.”

“I’m sorry,” said Jake. He looked up at Jared, couldn’t stand the deep understanding and care he saw on Jared’s face, put his hands against his face again. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” said Jared. He dragged his knuckles between Jake’s shoulder blades. “You’re fine. No one who isn’t gay would look twice at you.”

“Oh, great, thanks,” said Jake, wondering what Dylan Strome saw in him. What Jared saw in him. What anyone saw in him, if they were looking closely enough.

He drank the rest of his water. Jared kept his hand between Jake’s shoulder blades, rubbing up and down. Jake tried not to lean into it. Adrenaline couldn’t wash all the alcohol from Jake’s blood but his panic was receding into a kind of grim acceptance. People could tell he was gay. He came out to Jared, accidentally. Jared knew he was gay. Jared tried to kiss him. Jake wasn’t alone on the team.

“You’ll be fine,” said Jared. He dragged his knuckles all the way down to Jake’s lower back and then up again. Jake collapsed against him, boneless and drunk. Jared laughed, dug his knuckles into Jake’s lumbar. Jake groaned.

A waitress placed a tiny chocolate cake in front of them with two forks. She smiled at them. “Need a refill?” she asked, gesturing at their second bottle of ice wine.

“No,” said Jared.

“Yes,” said Jake and since Jake was older and drunker, she listened to him. She filled their glasses and walked off, shaking her head with a smile. Jake hoped someone had made the waitstaff sign an NDA before the team had poured their depressed selves into the bar.

“Dude, you need to go to bed,” said Jared.

Jake sat up. “Wine, cake, then bed. Um, not with each other.”

“Don’t be weird,” said Jared.

“I’m trying,” said Jake. “I promise, I am trying.”

“I know,” said Jared. He picked up a fork and dug out a piece of the cake. He wasn’t touching Jake anymore. Jake wasn’t sure if he was relieved or lonely without him. He picked up his own fork and took a bite as well. It tasted just okay, considering how expensive the wine was in this bar.

Jared started rambling about _She’s The Man_ and after awhile, Jake joined him. He didn’t remember much of the rest of the night.

;;

Jake woke up the next morning so insanely hungover that he barely made it to the bathroom before puking up what felt like everything he’d eaten in the past three months.

“What the fuck,” said Juuso, still half-asleep when Jake stumbled out of the bathrom. Juuso was sprawled out on his bed, comforter half-kicked off the bed. He looked cozy. Jake ached for that feeling because his head hurt so much that he was having trouble seeing straight. “You okay?” Juuso mumbled.

“Yeah,” said Jake. “Drank too much.”

“How much time until we leave?” Juuso asked.

Jake checked the clock on the bedside table. “3 hours.”

“Fuck you, I’m going back to sleep,” Juuso said happily. “Go throw up somewhere else.”

Jake got dressed and took some aspirin. He needed some goddamn Sausage McMuffins.

Walking around Philly after a game made him persona non grata even when the Flyers won, so Jake kept his sunglasses and beanie on while he was in McDonalds. He sat down in the outdoor patio of the hotel by the pool with his seven McMuffins. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be interrupted out there; it was overcast and fucking cold. He could have an honest conversation with one of his brothers out here, away from the team, away from anyone who could hear him.

“Shit game, bro,” said Gabe when he picked up. “What happened?”

Jake hung up and called Ryan.

“Gabe says to call him back so he can apologize,” said Ryan when he picked up.

Jake hung up on him too. He dug his AirPods out of his pocket and facetimed them both.

“Dude,” said Gabe. “You look terrible.”

“Sid made us go drinking,” said Jake. He stacked his McMuffins on top of each other in a little pyramid shape so that he could lean his phone upright against them. He took a McMuffin from the top and started eating.

“Sid made you drink so much you need Sausage McMuffins?”

“I bought seven,” said Jake, mouth full. He swallowed. “I don’t remember how I got back to my hotel room.”

“I know you hate losing to the Flyers but that seems a little excessive,” said Gabe.

“Jared kissed me,” Jake said and took another bite.

His brothers looked appropriately astonished.

“Jared McCann,” said Ryan finally. “Canner. The guy who went house hunting with you for fun.”

“We’re friends, I guess,” said Jake. “Well, he thought we were more than friends. We’re not though. But he kissed me and then I had a meltdown and then we ate cake.”

“What,” said Gabe, “the fuck.”

“I don’t know,” said Jake. He finished his first McMuffin and grabbed another. “He told me he had an ex-boyfriend in Vancouver and then he told Sid and Olli and me that he had a boyfriend in Florida but that they were broken up and then Olli quoted _She’s The Man_ and Jared was like yeah, Pittsburgh, but he was looking at me so I left but then when I came back he told me to stop being weird and I don’t know why I keep coming back to him even though he calls me weird all the time. But I think he’s gay and I know I’m gay and we got super drunk at the bar last night and then he kissed me and I guess someone got me back to the hotel because I don’t remember anything after we finished the second bottle of whatever he was ordering from the bar but I don’t think he did anything untoward and if he did I would forgive him because he’s my good friend. I think he knows we’re just friends, I don’t think of him as anything other than a friend. I don’t know how he knew I was gay. He just said people who were looking would know. But that doesn’t explain Dylan Strome. Is that what gaydar is? I thought that was only for like, people who lived in San Francisco.”

He took a huge bite of his second McMuffin.

“What the actual fuck,” said Ryan.

“Yeah,” said Jake, around his McMuffin.

“No, seriously, what the actual motherfucking fuck,” said Ryan.

“You have a rich life you don’t tell us about,” said Gabe. “I’m kinda insulted.”

“I thought I would sound stupid if I told you that I just play hockey and notice things about guys I play against,” said Jake. “It’s really embarrassing.” He finished his second McMuffin and reached for a third, carefully readjusting the pile and his phone so that he could still see his brothers.

Gabe and Ryan stared at him for a full minute.

“Jakey,” said Gabe. “Can I ask something, man to man, brother to brother?”

“Sure,” said Jake.

“Have you never had a crush before?” Gabe asked.

“I guess not,” said Jake. “But I don’t have one on Jared, if that is what you are asking.”

“No, no, I get that,” said Gabe. “I just mean, like. You’ve never really looked at someone? You’ve never looked at another person and saw parts of them that appeal to you? And now you notice it against guys you play against?”

“I thought Nolan Patrick was cute and then I thought about killing myself or him,” said Jake. “It’s been kinda shitty for me recently.”

“Jakey,” said Ryan. He looked pained. “How did you realize you gay?”

“I just knew,” said Jake. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just knew.”

His brothers were silent for a little while longer. Jake finished two more McMuffins.

“I think,” said Gabe, “that you should take Jared’s friendship for the gift that it is.”

“What does Jared have to do anything?” asked Jake.

“I mean, you have no idea how to date or what to look for in guys or literally anything. You barely hooked up even when you thought you were straight. I’m not saying date Jared, if you’re not interested, you’re not interested, but I am saying let him be your friend. Like, your gay friend. See if he can teach you how to be a functioning human being.” Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ask him to help you.”

“Help me do what?”

“Remember when we asked you if you would ever consider coming out to someone and settling down?” Gabe asked.

“And then I cried, yeah,” said Jake. He picked up a McMuffin. “Why?”

“I think he could help you not have a meltdown every time you have a like, gay thought or whatever.” Gabe sighed. “So you can look at Nolan Patrick without thinking ‘murder-suicide’ and so you can consider the idea of settling down with someone now that you’re in a place of both financial and professional stability.”

“Why can’t you help me?”

“We’re not gay and we don’t play in the NHL,” said Gabe. “Your circumstances are markedly different than ours. Jared is on your level, just not paid as well.”

Jake considered this while he finished his penultimate McMuffin. He only had one left but he was full and needed coffee. He picked up his phone so he could see them. “Okay,” he said. “You’re right. I’ll ask him.”

“You’re already friends and he’s probably mature enough not to hold it against you that you panicked when he kissed you,” said Ryan. “Or he seems like it anyway, from what you’ve told us about him. Listen, Jakey, you deserve to be in love with someone and for someone to be in love with you and you deserve the right not to have a mental breakdown when that happens.”

“That might be unrealistic,” said Jake.

“Shut the fuck up,” said Gabe.

“Don’t be a dick, Jakey,” said Ryan. “You owe it to yourself to be happy.”

“I can be happy without being in love. They’re not mutually exclusive.”

“No shit,” said Ryan. “But you owe it to yourself to at least try being happy while being in love.”

Jake sighed. “Okay.”

The three of them fell into silence. Jake looked at them and missed them even though they were tearing into him. He glanced at the sky. It was dark.

“I think it’s going to rain again,” said Jake. “And I should probably see if someone will eat this last McMuffin before it gets too cold.”

“Okay,” said Ryan. “Talk later?”

“Yeah,” said Jake.

“Love you, Jakey,” said Gabe.

“Yeah, love you too,” said Jake. “I’ll call later.”

;;

Inside, Schultzy and Jared were sitting in the hotel dining area looking like 50 shades of dead. Jake grabbed a mug of coffee. “Either of you want my McMuffin?” he asked, dropping it between them.

“I have to go throw up again,” said Schultzy, glancing at the McMuffin briefly before looking away. He looked ill. “I’ll see you guys at call.” He got up, walked off at a fast clip toward the bathroom.

“Think he might still be drunk,” Jared said. He looked so sleepy. He picked up the McMuffin and unwrapped it.

Jake looked around. A couple of the guys were in the dining area but they were sitting far enough away that him and Jared had a little privacy. He leaned in. “I’m sorry I had a meltdown when you kissed me,” he whispered.

“Can you stop fucking apologizing, for fuck’s sake?” said Jared. “It’s fine. It’s not the end of the world. I’ll live.” He took a bite. “Holy shit, this is perfect.”

Jake waited until Jared finished chewing and had taken a sip of coffee before asking. “Can you teach me how to be gay?” he asked.

Jared choked on his coffee. Jake watched him.

“Unbelievable,” Jared said, when he finished coughing. “Fucking unbelievable. Jesus Christ. Am I still drunk?”

“I don’t think so,” said Jake.

“Are you still drunk?” Jared asked.

“No,” said Jake. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” said Jared. He finished the McMuffin, drank half his coffee and set the mug down. He looked at Jake.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” said Jake. “I don’t really know anyone else who can teach me. Maybe Dylan Strome, he seems nice, I guess. I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

“No,” said Jared, looking disgusted. “No, Dylan Strome will not be teaching you how to--” he put up air quotes “--’be gay’. I’ll do it.”

Jake felt something nervous flutter in his chest. “Thanks.”

Jared said, “I cannot fucking believe you, Jake.”

They finished their coffees in silence. More of their teammates wandered into the dining area, settling down at tables with large plates of lukewarm continental breakfast eggs and bacon.

“Okay,” said Jared. “First rule about being gay.”

“What is it?”

“Get me more coffee,” said Jared, shoving his mug at Jake.

“Oh fuck you,” said Jake. He got up and went to get more coffee for them both.

;;

Jake took Jared on a couple more house tours, mostly because Olli refused to go and because Jake really did like having Jared around; he didn’t know what to look for in houses besides a big kitchen and big bedrooms. 

In retaliation, Jared took Jake to a gay bar in Columbus the night before their game. At least he told Jake to pack clothes that wouldn’t make him look like a hockey player who had no idea how to dress himself before they got on the plane. Jake really didn’t know how to dress himself but he had a couple of girl friends in college who made him buy some shirts that fit and he’d never thrown them out so he figured it would have to do.

Jared’s main complaint was Jake’s hair. “Bud, we really have to do something about this,” he said, ruffling Jake’s hair when Jake met him in the hotel lobby alone.

“Get off me,” said Jake, ducking. Jared was taller than him though so he didn’t have a lot of space to move. “Is good hair a gay thing?”

“No, that’s a ‘adult male with who knows how to find a good barber’ thing. Come on.”

They piled into a Lyft. Jake had no idea where they were going and for how long but he figured Jared wouldn’t let them miss curfew since he knew how Jake felt about missing curfew.

The Lyft let them out five blocks from their actual destination in front of an Italian restaurant. Jake was impressed with Jared’s discretion even though Jared had to keep looking at Google maps on his phone to make sure they were walking in the right direction.

The bar looked slightly upscale and had a rainbow flag hanging from the eaves. Jake looked at it. “I don’t know,” he said.

“Come on,” said Jared again, grabbing his arm and pulling him in.

It was a Monday night so the bar wasn’t packed but it was humming with just enough activity that Jake figured they would be pretty anonymous. Maybe that was why Jared took him out in Columbus. No one gave a shit about the Pens in Columbus.

Jared dragged him to the bar, ordered four blow jobs and made them do shots. The bartender looked on, amused. “Looking to get wrecked?” she asked. Her name was Andreya.

“It’s his first time,” said Jared with a wicked grin. 

Jake flushed. “In a gay bar,” Jake said.

“Oh honey,” said Andreya. She grinned. “Welcome to Gay Columbus.”

“Uh, thanks,” said Jake. His cheeks were still burning. Jared ordered them both Irish Coffees and took him to a table against the wall. He waited until Jake had drunk a third of his drink out of stress and said, “Okay, Jake, pick a guy.”

“What,” said Jake. “Why.”

“Don’t panic, it’ll be fun,” said Jared. “Or I’ll pick for you.”

“You pick,” said Jake. “You know what you’re doing. What are you doing?”

Jared scanned the room. “That guy,” he said, nodding at a tall built man with dark hair leaning against the bar and chatting with Andreya. Jake hadn’t noticed him.

“Why him?” Jake asked.

“He has an ass that doesn’t quit,” said Jared. “If you’re into hockey players, you should be into that.”

Jake had never told Jared about Erik Karlsson or Tyler Toffoli or Clayton Keller or any other guy he’d ever noticed and he would die before he told Jared about Nolan Patrick. He wondered how Jared knew. Then he figured that since he was around hockey players all the time, it was a natural assumption that he would be into them. Who else was there?

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked.

“Buy him a drink,” said Jared. “Ask him about himself. Flirt with him. If you kiss him, I’ll give you $50.”

Jake drank some more of his Irish Coffee and said, “when I get my ass kicked and we end up on the news and Rutherford trades me for not having chemistry with the team or whatever because he’s secretly homophobic and then someone takes me out on ice because I’m gay and hockey players hate that and then I end up with brain damage and die, I’m going to haunt you.”

“Aw, bro,” said Jared. He grinned. “Is that the first time you’ve ever said the words ‘I’m gay’ out loud?”

Jake gave him the finger and got up to go hit on the guy.

“Hey,” he said, sliding up next to the guy against the bar, trying to remember every move he’d ever seen his teammates pull on girls at bars. “Can I buy you a drink?”

The guy looked him up and down. “Sure,” he said.

Andreya shook her head as she made them both blow jobs. Jake took a shot.

“So, um,” he said. “What do you do?”

“I’m an app developer,” he said.

“What kind of, uh, app?” Jake asked.

“An alternative to Grindr,” he said.

Jake said, “oh, the gay hook-up app?”

The App Developer Guy smiled at him and Jake wasn’t sure if he was being mocked or not. A tall red-haired guy next to him turned around, unsubtle about eavesdropping on them. “Yeah,” he said. “But for virgins.”

Jake squinted. Was he being made fun of? He wasn’t sure. “Oh,” he said.

Red-haired Guy elbowed App Developer Guy in the chest. “Stop mocking the twink virgin,” he said to App Developer Guy, which answered Jake’s question.

“Look at him,” said App Developer Guy. “He’s cute. He’s blushing. I don’t usually go for kids his size but I’d make an exception for him.”

“I’m right here?” said Jake. “Also, I’m 24.”

“Andy, Harold, you guys are real assholes, you know that, right?” said Andreya to the two guys. “Get out of here.”

Jake was grateful Andreya didn’t throw him under the bus by telling them it was his first time in a gay bar, so he ordered him and Jared two more Irish Coffees, tipped her 90%, and went back to Jared.

Jared was wheezing into a plate of what looked like macaroni and cheese bites. “Oh my god,” he said. “Your face.”

Jake set the drinks down in front of him. “I’m not great at this.”

“What did he say?” said Jared.

“He said he was an app developer and called me a twink virgin,” said Jake. “I don’t think he meant it in a nice way.”

Jared dissolved into laughter again. Jake stole some of his macaroni and cheese bites and let him laugh it out. It was kind of funny, he figured. Humiliating, but funny.

“You’ll get better,” said Jared, when he finally stopped laughing long enough to finish his drink.

“Probably not,” said Jake. “I don’t really have any game.”

“We’ll work on it,” said Jared. He smiled at Jake but he wasn’t mocking him.

Small mercies, Jake thought. He was glad he and Jared were friends. He wasn’t sure what he would do without him, really.

;;

Sully put Jared on the top line with Jake and Sid and they played fucking amazing hockey in Montreal, against Florida, against Columbus. Jake was a little surprised at how well they played together, but he shouldn’t be. Him and Sid were always amazing and Jared was talented as hell. It was a good feeling, watching Jared score goals and getting to reach him first sometimes, both of them smiling wide enough to split their faces. Jake really enjoyed seeing Jared look that happy.

On their plane to Columbus, Jared texted Jake a link to bars in “Gay Montreal” with a _:( next time!_

_I thought you didn’t like gayborhoods_ said Jake, who had learned that word earlier that morning when Jared sent him a link to gay bars in Columbus and told him to pick one for their next roadie.

_montreal though!_ said Jared and sent him a gif of Gritty streaking from the stadium series game for reasons Jake couldn’t comprehend.

_We don’t talk about that game_ said Jake after deciding there were parts of Jared he would never, ever understand.

_i never thanked you for the sausage mcmuffin_ said Jared. _that was the highlight of my weekend_

Jared wondered if he’d broken Jared’s heart by not kissing him back in Philly and then decided that Jared was too smart to fall in love with him. And there really was nothing better than a Sausage McMuffin when you were hungover.

_np_ he wrote.

They lost in Columbus and didn’t have time to go out after the game before they left. The team won another three and Jake thought the team might not actually be that bad after all. They were clinging to a playoff spot, edging out of wildcard and into a place more secure. 

On his off-days he pretended to understand anything his financial advisor was telling him and went house hunting with Linda. Jared came along every time, claiming that Jake had no idea what to look for in a house “since all you care about is having a big kitchen and multiple bedrooms.” Jake tried to tell him he knew enough to buy a house with double-pane windows at least but Jared didn’t listen to him.

Linda had finally picked up on Jared not liking her; she was extra sweet to him. She also would not stop talking about the best neighborhoods to raise families in. Jake gave up trying to convince her that he and Jared were not dating and started to think more about his future. Maybe he should be thinking about school districts. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to have kids. He was, after all, still a virgin twink who didn’t know how to talk to guys in a way that would make them want to kiss him and not make fun of him. But he was starting to think there might be a future where he found someone who wouldn’t make fun of him. He might have a boyfriend, someday, maybe. He didn’t feel like throwing up when he considered the possibility anyway.

They lost to St. Louis, which sucked, and then again to Philly, which sucked even more. Sid didn’t buy out the wine bar because they were too close to the postseason to risk fucking up their playoff spot from being super hungover. A bunch of the guys got brunch after their morning practice in Raleigh though, sneaking small glasses of mimosas while Sid wasn’t around to make disapproving faces at them. Road trips sucked this late in the season; they deserved a small break.

Jake noticed Jared laughing with Bjuggy and Reeser a table away, noticed the way his eyes lit up while Reeser told some truly terrible jokes, noticed how his whole body changed when he was laughing. Jake had never noticed that about him before. He looked down at his plate when Jared made eye contact with him. Something tightened in his chest.

“Earth to Jake,” said Schultzy, punching him in the arm. Jake startled. “What,” he said.

“If you had the chance to mute Konency for life but it meant you had to suck Giroux’s dick every day, would you?”

Jake didn’t even think about it twice. “Fuck yes,” he said. “I would do literally anything to shut Konecny up.”

Schultzy and Olli laughed. Jake added, because he was feeling a little brave and a little off-kilter, “also, Giroux’s a weapon, right?”

“Thank God,” said Olli, lighting up. “Fucking finally someone says it. He is a weapon. I’d suck his dick to shut Konecny up but I wouldn’t be very mad about it. No homo,” he added, almost as an afterthought. Jake’s heart sank.

“Shut the fuck up,” said Schultzy, reaching over the table to slap Olli. “We don’t say that anymore. Do you ever listen in sensitivity training?”

“You either are or you aren’t,” said Olli with a shrug.

“I think sexuality is a spectrum,” said Jake. Jared had been sending him articles about the queer experience in America and Canada. He didn’t always understand what he was reading but he picked up that much at least. “That’s what people say. Uh, I think.”

Olli had to think about that for a bit. Schultzy ate his pancakes and Jake tried to ignore the way he was looking at Jake, careful and considering. “So like, there’s a middle ground between gay and not gay,” said Olli.

“You are so unbelievably stupid,” said Schultzy.

“Yes,” said Jake. If Jared could take him to a gay bar and be patient with him while he learned how to be gay, he could be patient with Olli while Olli learned what it meant to be queer. “Yeah, that’s what they say. There’s a whole scale. I read an article about it. I could send it to if you want,” he offered, feeling daring.

“Sure,” said Olli, nodding. “If I don’t understand some words though, you have to translate.”

“Okay,” said Jake. Schultzy was still looking at him like he knew something; Jake took a bite of his hashbrowns and didn’t look at him.

Jared caught his eye and smiled at him. Jake smiled back reflexively.

;;

They dropped the game in Raleigh but won the next three on the road. Jared wasn’t playing on a line with Jake and Sid anymore but he was still playing well; one of the few guys on the team who were. Five games left in the season and the Pens would make it to the postseason.

In Dallas, Jake noticed that Jamie Benn had kind eyes. Jake also noticed the sleek lines of Jared’s body in the dressing room as he stripped off his gear that night. Late-season weight loss had hit him hard the way it had hit them all but Jared was still strong, his muscles still defined in his arms and thighs as he pulled off his under armour. 

Jake decided right then and there that the dressing room was off limits for any kind of noticing. Not because he was concerned about inopportune boners -- hockey was an adrenaline-filled, high intensity game, it happened all the time and no one looked twice -- but because it felt unfair to watch Jared strip while he was just doing his job.

Jake glanced at him one last time though; Jared had scored two goals and his entire body was alight with joy as Sid congratulated him after he’d gotten done with his post-game media scrum. Jake had scored a goal too but he was nowhere near as happy as Jared was. It hadn’t gotten old for Jared yet, scoring goals, being on the verge of a hat trick. Jake smiled as he watched Jared roll back and forth on the balls of his feet like a child while Sid told him to keep it up, because they’d need him in the postseason.

He looked down at his skates and concentrated on unwrapping his shin guards when Schultzy looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

;;

April hit them like a truck. They lost in Detroit 4-1. They won against Detroit 4-1 two days later. Jake wasn’t sure if he hated or loved hockey when stuff like that happened. Sid told them in the dressing room before their last game of the season against the Rangers that regardless if they won or lost, they were going to the wine bar and he, Geno, and Tanger were paying. The Pens were going to the postseason and that deserved a celebration, no matter the outcome. “Bring your better halves,” Sid said. Jake looked around the room. Sid had only ever said “girlfriends and wives” in the past. No one looked particularly put off by the change in language.

Inclusivity was a hell of a drug, he decided, when they hit the ice for warm-ups and Jared bumped into him intentionally, nearly knocking him off his feet. “Sid’s a weapon, hey?” he said to Jake with a grin.

“Shut up,” said Jake. “He’s like my dad. Don’t say that.”

“His allyship is choice,” said Jared. He skated backwards two feet in front of Jake and then forward again. “That’s all. It feels good, right?”

Jake was smiling before he could stop himself. “Yeah, it does.”

Jared tapped his shins with his stick and skated off. Jake made sure to toss a couple of pucks to the kids who had been watching them. The kids were so happy about it. Jake knew how they felt. It was the simple things in life.

The game ended in overtime. The sting of losing in front of the home crowd, especially on the last night of the season, always hurt like hell, but they were headed to the postseason so fans weren’t booing them as much as they probably should have been. Jake allowed himself the brief gift of watching Jared take off his shirt and then busied himself undressing. He only had an hour to get out of the stadium, go home and change out of his game day suit, and meet the team at the wine bar before Dumo and Tanger started fining people for being late.

He was shirtless and halfway pants-less when Jared stepped in front of him, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. Jake kept his eyes on Jared’s face.

“Remember what you wore to the bar?” Jared said. “In Columbus? Wear that.”

“Why?” said Jake, a little desperately because every lanky naked inch of Jared was in front of him and he couldn’t do anything about it. He wasn’t even sure what he would do if he was allowed to do anything about it.

“It was a good look,” said Jared. “End the season in a good look.”

“What the fuck,” said Jake. “Why do you care that I look good?”

“Well,” said Jared. “I think I found a bar we can go to in Pittsburgh where no one will recognize us.”

“Okay,” said Jake, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them, Jared was grinning at him, expectant and a little wild. He wanted to close his eyes again. “Jared. You haven’t gone to the playoffs before and I’m really excited for you to experience that. But we cannot, really fucking cannot, go anywhere in this city during the postseason without getting recognized. I don’t think we could go anywhere during the regular season without getting recognized but we especially cannot go anywhere during the postseason.”

“Damn,” said Jared. “What about this summer?”

“Maybe,” said Jake.

Jared slapped his arm and went to the showers. Jake stared after him, at the long plane of his back, before he caught himself. 

He wasn’t lying when he said he was excited for Jared to experience the playoffs because there really was nothing like playoff hockey. But Jared had a lot to learn if he thought they could go anywhere in the city without being recognized. It’s why Sid kept buying out the same wine bar.

Jake thought that he was excited to see how Jared played in postseason. It would be cool to stand next to him when they raised the--well, jinx. He shook his head to clear it and hit the showers.

;;

Jake didn’t know what to wear to the wine bar so he put on the same clothes he wore to the bar in Columbus. If Jared thought he looked good, that was good enough for him.

He didn’t bother trying to make his hair look good. It was a losing battle. Maybe he could ask Sid for recommendations for a barber next season. Jake really sucked at being an adult but at least he felt like he could ask Sid for help about it. Maybe one day he’d even be able to have a real conversation with him that wouldn’t end in Sid sending him a manila envelope of information about how to be an adult.

His Uber dropped him off in front of the wine bar. “Good luck, bro!” said his driver and Jake wasn’t sure if she meant in the playoffs or what. They had been talking about wine up until that point; he had been asking for her recommendations. He tipped her 100% when he got out of the car. She was a safe driver even as she schooled him in types of dessert wine.

He showed his ID to the bouncer and walked into the wine bar.

And then he saw Jared talking to Bjuggy and Bjuggy’s incredibly pregnant wife and tripped over his own feet. Jared was wearing a tight red button-up and skinny jeans and he was laughing with his whole body.

“Are you drunk already?” Reeser asked, who had walked into the behind him. “Come on man, we have won anything yet.”

“Yeah, yeah, no,” said Jake. “Not drunk. Excuse me.”

He walked straight to the bar and asked if they had any ice wine. Their cheapest bottle was $750 but Sid was paying so who gave a shit. Jake got two, drank as much as he could straight from the bottle while counting to 120, and then wandered off to find Jared.

Jared was still talking to Bjuggy and Jackie. Jackie was chirping the two of them for their taste in jeans -- unfairly, Jake thought, because Jared looked incredible in skinny jeans. He was laughing, bouncing up and down on his feet as Jackie roasted him. Jake had never wanted anything so much in his life as he wanted to touch him.

Jake took a moment to steel himself and then walked up to them.

“Double-fisting wine bottles?” asked Jackie, raising her eyebrows.

“Don’t you already have a ring?” said Bjuggy. “Save some for the rest of us, jeeze.”

“Great point,” said Jake. He handed Bjuggy the full bottle. “Jared, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure,” said Jared, and let Jake lead him to a darker corner of the bar. He took the second bottle from Jake and took a swig. “What’s up, Jake?”

Jake was shorter than him by a few more inches than he cared to admit, but he could still box Jared in against the wall and did. Jared looked at him. “Jake,” he said. “What the fuck.”

Jake took a deep breath and let it all spill out of him. “The whole season I kept--I kept noticing guys, like how they’d smile and dance and play and even get angry with me on the ice. And I couldn’t tell anyone how that made me feel, not even my brothers, because it felt so stupid, so juvenile, because I was just some dumb guy who’d never had a real crush before and all of sudden I was just--I was just seeing the guys around me for the first time. I didn’t know what to do with that and I didn’t know how to deal with that and I thought I was just going to be like that for my career and I was going to be alone for all of it. And then you were traded here. And you--you made it look so easy to be gay, like it was nothing, like it was normal, and everyone just accepted it and no one said anything really fucked up.”

“Jake,” said Jared softly.

“One time my brothers asked me if I would ever consider having a real relationship with a guy and I started crying and almost threw up,” said Jake. “And then you were talking about how you had boyfriends in the past and it was fine and it was easy and maybe it didn’t end well all the time but you did it and you can still do it and you’re braver than me and I want that, okay? I want that.”

Jared touched his arm, rubbing up and down.

“I know I missed my chance,” said Jake. “But can you consider me again?”

“Jake--”

“Can I kiss you?” Jake asked. “Will you come home with me?”

Jared touched Jake’s face, rubbed his cheek bone with his thumb. “I like you so much,” Jared said. “But you are incredibly drunk right now and I am extremely sober.”

“I have ice wine,” said Jake. “Get on my level.”

“I’m not going to kiss you and I’m not going home with you,” said Jared.

All the air in Jake’s body left him. He tried to step back but Jared pulled him close, one arm around his back. 

“You look good,” Jared whispered in his ear. “Talk to me when you’re sober.”

He kissed Jake on the cheek quickly and let him go.

Jake stumbled back. Jared went back to Bjuggy and Jackie, Jake's half-finished bottle of ice wine in hand. Jake watched him walk away and tried to figure out what he was feeling. He wasn't sure if there were words for what he was feeling.

“I didn’t see any of that,” said Schultzy. Jake startled; Schultzy had been standing nearby the entire time. He blanched. Schultzy gave him a one-armed hug. “Chill, bro. No one on the team really saw that, I promise.”

“Nobody saw anything,” Jake agreed and cut his losses and went to find Sid to ask him if he knew any barbers and stylists in Pittsburgh who could help with his whole situation. If Jared was going to say things like “you look good”, the least Jake could do was get a better haircut and clothing that his friends didn’t buy him in college six years ago. He could try to sort of come close to being in Jared’s league. It wasn’t ever going to happen, but he could try.

Predictably, Sid was delighted to help Jake out. He was a good captain.

Jared left with Jackie and Bjuggy. He stopped to say goodbye to Sid and Jake, pressing one hand on the small of Jake’s back.

“Postseason practice schedules will be out by tomorrow,” said Sid to him, “but you can sleep in, it won’t be until the afternoon at the earliest.”

“What if I don’t want to sleep in?” Jared asked. “I mean, holy shit, I don’t know how I’m going to sleep. We made it to the postseason.”

Jake tried not to lean into Jared. Jared’s hand curled into the back of his shirt.

Sid laughed, but it was kind. “I’m glad we got you,” he said. “You’re going to be amazing for this team in the future.”

“Cool,” said Jared. “Don’t let me go to arbitration next year, Cap.”

“I’ll do my best,” said Sid, which coming from him was a guarantee, Jake knew. 

Jared dragged his knuckles up Jake’s back and stepped away. Jake shivered at the loss of contact. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Drink water!” Sid called as Jared, Bjuggy, and Jackie walked out the door. Jared waved at them.

“He’s a piece of our future,” said Sid to Jake. “When Geno and I are out of the game, it’s going to be the two of you. I’m hope you’re ready.”

Jake wasn’t ready for it, not in the slightest, but he was up for the challenge.

;;

Jake woke up with the sun in his eyes. He’d fallen asleep on top of the covers with his shirt unbuttoned and his jeans still on. At least he’d taken his shoes off. He decided he wasn’t going to drink ice wine anymore as he stripped off his shirt and jeans and made his way to the bathroom. He wasn’t going to puke, he was pretty sure, but the headache he had was killer.

His phone chimed with a text message notification while he was brushing his teeth. He spit toothpaste in the sink and picked up his phone.

_are you sober yet?_ asked Jared.

Jake didn’t know how to respond to that, so he facetimed Jared.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” said Jared. He was sitting up in bed, shirtless with the covers halfway down his chest. His hair was sticking straight up in the back.

“I’m sober,” said Jake, suddenly uncomfortably aware that he was shirtless too, and didn’t look half as good. “I didn’t even throw up, that’s how sober I am.”

“Cool,” said Jared. “How many Sausage McMuffins do you want?”

“5,” said Jake. “Please. I’ll venmo you.”

“See you soon,” said Jared and rolled out of bed. Jake caught a glimpse of him in the mirror hanging in Jared’s room as he stood up; Jared was completely fucking naked.

“You did that on purpose,” said Jake, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Fuck you.”

“Breakfast first,” said Jared and hung up.

Jake took a cold shower and decided that it was reasonable for him to be wearing sweats when Jared came over. He was hungover. He didn’t have to look good. Jared already knew what he looked like.

Jared was over forty-five minutes later. Jake was on his third cup of coffee and about to start vibrating in his skin from nerves or caffeine when the doorbell finally rang.

“Hey,” said Jared. He was also wearing sweats but he looked a lot better than Jake.

“Hey,” said Jake. He grabbed Jared’s arm and pulled him inside, letting the door slam shut behind him. “I’m sober now.”

Jared touched Jake’s cheek, ran a hand through his stupid hair, tilted his head up and kissed him. Jake pushed him back against the door and Jared dropped the McDonalds bag on the floor.

“Thanks,” he said, when Jared finally shoved him away so they could both breathe.

“For what?” said Jared. His hair was sticking up again and his lips were swollen. He was breathing heavily.

“Everything,” said Jake. “I owe you everything.”

“I’m not going to give you an inspiring talk about how the real strength of character was inside you all along,” said Jared. “But only because I want to kiss you again right now.”

“Okay,” Jake agreed. “You can tell me later.”

Jared was laughing as he pulled Jake close again.

;;

Ryan facetimed him while he was still half-asleep. “Jakey!” he said. “Third postseason in a row!” And then: “are you still in bed? Bro, it’s like two in the afternoon!”

“People call you Jakey?” Jared asked, rolling over onto his stomach and throwing an arm across Jake’s bare stomach as Jake sat up.

“Who the shit is that?” Ryan demanded.

“Uh, Jared,” said Jake.

“_McCann?_”

“Yup,” said Jared. He wiggled into something close to an upright position next to Jake and settled next to him. “Hi.”

Jake was uncomfortably aware that they were both shirtless. And pants-less but Ryan wouldn’t be able to tell that from how Jake had the camera angled, thank fuck.

“I’m Ryan,” said Ryan. “I’m Jake’s older brother and I will kick your ass if you break his heart.”

“I won’t,” said Jared and it sounded like a promise.

“Gabe is going to be thrilled,” said Ryan to Jake. “He’s been gunning for you two since Philly.”

“Ugh,” said Jake. Jared started laughing, burying his face against Jake’s bare shoulder.

“I’ll let you get back to it,” said Ryan. “Be safe.”

“Oh my god,” said Jake. 

“And remember to hydrate,” said Ryan.

“I’m hanging up on you now,” said Jake, but Ryan beat him to it. Jake tossed his phone on the bedside table with a sigh. “They’re going to be so annoying.” 

Jared kissed his shoulder. “Worth it though, right?”

“Yeah,” said Jake, and shoved Jared over onto his back and straddled him so he could kiss him properly. Jared smiled into the kiss and that made Jake smile too.

“More than worth it,” said Jake, sitting up.

“Awesome,” said Jared, looking up at him. “Do you want breakfast now or another blowjob?”

Jake squinted at him. “Breakfast?” He didn’t mean for it to sound like a question.

Jared laughed at him and pulled him down for another kiss. Jake figured he could wait for breakfast a little while longer.

;;

True to his word, Sid texted the team the postseason practice schedule late in the afternoon but neither Jared nor Jake saw it until early evening when they finally got out of bed.

“What’s postseason hockey like?” Jared asked as they stood in Jake’s tiny kitchen waiting for their McMuffins to heat up in the microwave.

“It’s crazy,” said Jake. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced. It’s a whole other level of hockey. When the games are good, it’s the most fun you’ll ever have playing hockey. When you lose, you want to die and the city wants you dead too. Your emotions are all over the place and ‘sacrifice the body’ is the realest thing you’ll ever put your body through. It's the weirdest, hardest, most fulfilling thing you'll ever do in your career. Even if you lose in an early round like we did last year, it's the most incredible feeling just to be playing hockey in late April."

Jake didn't know jackshit about being gay but he knew a lot about playing postseason hockey and he was so fucking excited to do it with Jared.

“That sounds like a lot,” said Jared, brow furrowed.

“It’s really stressful and really fun,” said Jake. He leaned up, kissed Jared like they hadn’t been doing that all day. “Just stick with me, I’ll show you.”

Jared carded a hand through Jake’s hair. “Okay,” he said.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Then the Pens sign Canner to a four year contract in 2019/2020 without arbitration and then him and Guentz to six or seven year contracts after that and they spend the rest of their careers together in Pittsburgh and it turns out school districts are important woop 
> 
> \- No disrespect to Dylan Strome
> 
> \- I actually love Travis Konecny a lot, he’s just an easy target, please don’t hate me Flyers fans


End file.
